Silver Memories
by Twentyoneletters
Summary: On a cold, cruel night, an act of betrayal caused Draco to lose his memories. This is a tale of love, trust, and deceit. Rated for mild violence and sexual themes.
1. Who Are You?

**Author's Note: **Pretty excited about finally publishing this story since I've been working on it for quite some time! Would love to hear your reviews on it! Sit back, relax, enjoy (:

**Disclaimer: **Merely borrowing J.K. Rowling's lovely characters.

**Who Are You?**

"F... f... father. Pl...ease... Please st..op," Draco Malfoy pleaded. With each word he spoke, he felt his energy draining away. His throat felt raw and talking was a torture itself. He was losing it, he could barely focus. Stringing a sentence seemed nearly impossible. He was dying.

Lucius Malfoy sneered, his face with no trace of sympathy. "I AM NO FATHER OF YOURS!" He bellowed. With his pale white hand on the wand, he levitated his son up in midair and flung his frail body against the wall.

* * *

(One week ago)

"_Are you ready, Draco?" Lucius Malfoy asked._

"_Yes, Father." he replied obediently._ _Draco tugged at his collar nervously. He checked his reflection against the mirror one last time before following his father out of the room. He should be excited, for tonight, his life will change. Tonight, he would be like his father - an equal. Tonight, he would not just be his father's son._

He had always respected his father. Lucius was a cold, heartless man and also one of the Lord's most loyal servants. To the Lord, his father was indispensible and irreplaceable. To everyone else, he was respected not for any other reason but simply fear. No one, dared disagreed with him. His father, having escaped from Askaban, had been to hell and back. Draco worshiped him. He wanted to be just like him. He had waited seventeen long years. Tonight, he will become one. Tonight, he will become a death eater.

_He just had to perform "one simple task". That was all Lucius revealed to him. Everything was top secret and he was not worthy enough to know more. But after tonight, he will be._

_They reached the end of the street. A wall separated them from what lay behind. Lucius peered around cautiously before murmuring some incantations. Draco hung back. Truth was, he was afraid. Very afraid. It is true that he had been waiting eagerly for this night all his life. However, that was when he was within the safety of the Malfoy's Manor. He had been so sheltered. He had never even laid eyes upon the present day Lord Voldermort. In fact, no one, except Potter and the death eaters, had seen him and came back alive. He had harboured such strong fear for the Lord. He feared that he may fail to undertake the task at hand. Worse still, he feared the consequences. He shuddered at the thought._

_His father's glare pierced his thoughts and brought him back to reality. The wall before them had disappeared and in its place, there stood a gate. Lost in his thoughts, he had not even noticed. The gate stood tall and menacing. His father beckoned him in and he followed meekly._

_The place reeked of rotten meat and debris was strewn everywhere. A foul smell hit him and he cringed at the sight of a pile of dead bodies before him. Ravens were feasting on them. He felt bile rising and forced his lunch back down into his stomach. _

_Then all of a sudden, the air turned cold. He jumped with a start as he heard a loud THUD. The ravens from before collapsed at his feet. He could feel it; the force so strong that anything weaker than a human being cannot survive the power radiating from it. _

_He was here. It was time._

_As if rehearsed countless times, black hooded figures emerged from the depths of the clearing in a perfect circle surrounding him. He looked to his side. His father was gone. He was now one of the hooded figures. Draco was alone._

_Then a cacophony of chants broke the silence. A figure materialised slowly before him, as if waking up from a deep slumber. Draco stood rooted to the ground, his eyes transfixed at the figure before him. He was neither man nor ghost. Sure, he had two eyes, one nose and one mouth but they resembled nothing like that of a human being. The features formed a most ghastly combination. Draco never knew someone, or rather something, that could look so hideous yet frightening. His eyes burned at the sight and he turned away quickly._

_The figure let out a shrill laughter, as if enjoying the fear he was emanating. "Well well well, let's see what we have here." it hissed. The voice sent Draco's hair standing on their ends. He wondered how the death eaters could be so still. _

"_Lucius!" it hissed. One of the hooded figures rushed forward and knelt before the figure. Draco looked around, he was the only one standing. He immediately dropped to his knees. No more Master Malfoy, he was now the servant. He thought._

"_You have done a fine job raising him." It cackled. "Is he ready?"_

"_Yes, Master." Lucius replied._

"_Very well then," It replied, its frightening voice with a slight tinge of triumph. It closed his eyes and hissed, "Wormtail, bring the Boy."._

_A shadow from behind materialised, holding a struggling boy firmly in its grasp. Harry Potter! _

_Draco could not help but feel a little comforted at the sight of the boy. He hated him for ruining the dark Lord. Yet, a familiar face in this deathly scene put him slightly more at ease._

_Harry was covered in bruises and his hands and legs appeared to be bound though Draco could see no ropes around them. Harry opened his eye. Fury emanated from them. He spit at the figure before him._

"_Such cheek! Crucio!" Lucius barked. Harry writhed in pain. The anger in his eyes drowned by the pain he was in. Draco's eyes widen with fear. The last time he had seen this spell being uttered was when his father had punished Moby, their house elf, for spilling wine on him. It was illegal. But of course, to Lucius, rules were for the weak._

_The shrill laughter tore everyone's gaze from Harry. "Aren't you being too selfish, Lucius? Share some of the fun with your son!" The figure averted his attention from Harry and turned to Draco. "Now!" It hissed._

_Harry stopped writhing and the pain in his eye receded, fury returning. Draco found his wand in his hand. He gripped it tightly._

"_It is time," Voldermort hissed. "Kill him!"_

_Draco stared at the wand in his hand. His hand was quivering from fear. So this was the "simple task". _

_He had to kill Potter. _

_Draco was nasty, he could be frightening. But he was most definitely not evil. He hated Harry for his guts but there was no way he could bring himself to kill the boy before him. He was no murderer._

"_Do it now!" It hissed, urgency in the voice. Draco felt something wet trickled down his legs. Initially he thought the dark Lord had hurt him but then he looked down and realised. He had peed in his pants!_

He looked into Harry's eyes. Harry's gaze bored into him, taunting him. Potter was not the least bit frightened of death. That thought made something within Draco squirm in admiration.

_He raised his wand and looked down at Harry. He saw defiance in his eyes. Harry was challenging him, daring him. But beneath that, he saw confidence in his eyes. He saw safety, safety which he longed for and he felt Harry's strength seeping into him._

_He blinked it away. He raised his wand once more. He could feel the silence as everyone present held their breaths. The air was so still, he could feel the wave of excitement beneath their anticipation. They had waited long enough for this. Potter has to die and he would be the one to do it. He would be the Lord's most faithful servant. He would take over his father's position for defeating the Lord's greatest enemy. He almost smirked at the thought._

"_Now!" Voldemort almost shrieked, as if every second in Potter's living presence brought him agony._

Draco raised his wand with a quivering arm. To kill, or not to kill. There is no escape! He thought weakly. He eyed the boy crumpled at his feet, he promised safety. Something within Draco snapped and in that instant, he made up his mind.

"_Relashio!" Draco cried out. Before he could react or regret his action, Harry had leapt up and ripped the wand out of his hand. He tossed Draco a surprised yet knowing look of gratitude for releasing him._

_Draco was pushed backwards as the events that followed unfurled in a blur before his eyes. Everything happened so quickly. A red light shot out from Draco's wand (now in Harry's hand) and in mere moments, members of the Order had surrounded the death eaters. _

_It was a trap! Draco thought._

_Voldermort led out a bloodcurdling scream of defeat and vanished into thin air. The death eaters barely put up a fight. They were heavily outnumbered. From the corner of his eyes, Draco saw a hooded figure escaping unnoticed. Then someone grabbed him from behind and thrusted his wand back at him. Harry pointed his wand (which he retrieved) at Draco and the next thing he knew, he was back in the manor._

_And he was in huge trouble, because the black hooded figure he saw escaping, was his father. His father, seeking revenge for his master._

* * *

(Back to the present)

He screamed as his head hit against the wall, hard. He was surprised and mildly amused that his last thoughts were wasted wondering how he still had the strength to scream his last scream.

And then, he was falling. But he knew something would catch him. He was going to be safe. He smiled. He let his body go, soaking up the freedom. He was free. The pain his body was being put through the last week was slowly fading away. He laughed. His laughter was a beautiful melody to his ears. He had not laughed in a long time. He laughed joyously as he felt himself slipping away.

_Away away away_. _And never coming back._

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy sobbed as she placed her hand against her son's warm forehead. Her face was streaked with tears and she was surprised she still had it in her the ability to cry some more.

She should be thankful, for the heartbeat within the boy was a miracle. But Draco was her only son. And although she may appear cold and impassive to him at most times, she loved him very tenderly.

She had just gotten back from her shopping trip to Paris where she discovered that muggles do actually have a very good fashion sense. She had bought fifteen new sets of muggle clothes for Draco and had eagerly wanted him to try them on. However upon reaching home, she learnt that the ministry had begun their search for Lucius and he had gone into hiding. She also learnt that her dearest son was on the verge of dying.

She shuddered at the memory of finding Draco's frail body crumpled in a heap in his bedroom and brought herself back to the present.

The movement at the bed brought her full attention to her son. He had been in this state for a week. His external wounds have been healed by the most experienced doctors at St Mungo's but they could do nothing else except to wait to see if he wakes up.

"Merlin's beard.. Draco!" She exclaimed as she saw his eyes open slowly, blinking a few times, adjusting to the sunlight.

"Oh my Lord, you scared the wits out of me. I thought you weren't ever waking up. My poor boy," She cradled the boy in her arms. "I will love you better, I promise. Trust me, trust me please. I'm so sorry I wasn't around to stop him. I'm so sorry," She babbled on.

It took awhile for Draco's eyes to adjust to the brightness. And another few moments to focus on the woman before him. She was beautiful. Definitely not young anymore, yet the youthfulness still lingered in her pristine features. She was a timeless beauty.

"I'm so so sorry, Draco. I'll never leave your side again," Narcissa continued. Then she stopped short. Draco was staring at her quizzically.

"Who are you?" He asked.

**A/N**: A penny for your thoughts? I would greatly appreciate reviews!


	2. Chocolate

**A/N:** Firstly, Merry Christmas! I'd like to thank **manitou2422** for being the first (and unfortunately only as yet) reviewer! Despite the disappointment in the review department, it gives me great pleasure to note the number of people who has added this story to their favourite stories list as well as opted for story alert subscription. Thanks for having such faith in my budding story (: And so, here's a new chapter! Enjoy (:

**Chocolate**

Narcissa's face fell. "I'm your mother," she said simply.

He was not okay. He may be awake, but he most certainly was not her Draco anymore. She felt her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the chair by the bed, fatigue overwhelming her.

"A..are you okay?" He felt inclined to add "Mother" but could not bring himself to embrace this stranger as his mother just yet. So instead, he placed his hand hesitantly on her shoulder.

"Oh Draco... You don't know what you've been through." She mumbled, more to herself than to him.

"Where am I? How did I get here? How long have I been here? Am I alive?" Draco pondered aloud. A myriad of questions flooding his mind. He looked around the unfamiliar room, slightly flustered.

She took a deep breath to compose herself. She was Narcissa Black Malfoy, queen of cool. She would not lose her composure like that, especially not in front of her son. She had to be brave for him.

"You've been in St Mungo's Hospital for three weeks. And yes, you're alive my dear. You're safe now." She replied, carefully avoiding his second question. All the better if he could not remember the reason that brought him here. It was something best left forgotten.

"Do you know who you are?" She asked, testing his memory.

"Draco? You've been calling me that for quite awhile." He answered with a slight frown.

"Do you remember what happened?" She continued.

Draco's face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to conjure up memories. But nothing came to his mind. He shook his head. "Will you tell me?"

Narcissa's face relaxed a little. The truth would break him. She thought as she took in the sight of his still frail body. Being in coma, he had not been able to eat much.

"How much do you remember?" She probed further.

He closed his eyes and thought hard.

_Voices. Voices telling him to stay strong._

_Sobbing. Someone begging the healers to save him._

_Footsteps. Healers rushing about tending to his injuries. _But what injuries? Why was he even here? Any trace of memory before that seemed to have ceased in existence altogether.

Draco eyed the room wearily, his eyes landing on a fly trapped by the window. It struggled to free itself. Its wings fluttering, fluttering, then stop as it lost its life to Death. Draco felt the same sense of lost. A part of him had died.

"I don't remember anything," he said finally, looking worn out.

Narcissa nodded her head, her lips set in a grim smile. "Don't be afraid. You'll learn again." She stood up to draw the curtains. Needing the divergence to blink away a tear before she turned to face him. "Get some rest, Draco. You must be tired. I'll inform the healers about this." She offered him a sad smile that did not reach her eyes. Draco nodded and slid deeper beneath his blanket. He was feeling extremely tired, as if he had not just awaken from a deep slumber. She patted him on the head and strode over to the door.

"Who's my father?" Draco asked suddenly.

Narcissa's back stiffened. "He's dead." She replied evenly, with no hesitation.

"I... I'm sorry." Draco apologised.

"Don't be," she said to him. "Rest well, my dear." And she left the room.

Draco sighed. He had so many unanswered questions but he was so tired. And as warmth enveloped him, he tossed them to the back of his mind and fell into a deep, deep sleep.

* * *

"...and this is Diagon Alley." His mother pointed out to him.

Everything about the place amazed him. Everything was magic!

He felt so much better after a week's long rest. And his mother seemed happier. He still felt uncomfortable addressing the beautiful woman as his mother but she had been nothing but nice to him and the way her face lit up when he called her "Mom" was so rewarding that he forced himself to shrug all awkwardness away.

In the short span of time that they had spent together, he learnt not to ask questions about his past as it brought about a dark cloud of emotions over his mother's beautiful face. He was definitely curious, but he was also very contented. His mother had been kind and patient with him and he figured that bombarding her with his incessant questions would just be plain ungrateful. Life was good the way it was and if it meant making this lady here happy, he reckoned he could live without the knowledge of his past. Besides starting afresh would be good for him.

"...there's Madam Malkins Robes For All Occasions. We'll get you more robes later." She smiled down at him. "Ahh.. Flourish and Blotts. Let's first get you some books to help you catch up so that you'll be able to return to school on par with the rest." They entered the shop.

Books were everywhere! They were on the floor, on rows and rows of shelves, and all the way up to the ceiling. Draco's eyes widen as he took in the sight before him. There were books of all kinds! Books with teeth, books that can move, books that dance, books that played music, books so thick he wondered if anyone ever finished reading them. Everywhere he looked, there were books, books and more books! Draco drank in the sight with amazement.

He wandered around the crowded shop on his own as his mother went about selecting books for him. He thumbed through the pages of a sample copy of _Hogwarts: A History_, fascinated by all the moving photos that encapsulated the wonders of his school. Replacing the book, he continued exploring the shop, stopping occasionally to flip through books that caught his interest.

He looked around in awe and unknowingly bumped into someone. "Merlin in hell!" A girl cursed. Books came showering down upon them as they collided and fell to the ground. "Don't you have eyes?" The flustered voice continued as its owner gathered herself up.

"I'm so very sorry!" He hastily scrambled to his knees and began helping the girl gather up her books. "Sorry sorry sorry." He apologised profusely as he passed the books back to her.

The girl, remembering her manners, wiped the scowl off her face and looked up ready to thank him. He caught her eyes in his and for a brief moment, it was as if time stood still. He thought his mother was beautiful. But this girl here, she was at the height of beauty. Her simple features conspired to create a work of art - her face.

He took in her slightly frizzy brown locks, her rich brown eyes the color of chocolate which was still contorted in a slight frown, her lightly flushed cheeks from getting thrown to the ground, and then down to her lips, a soft hue of peach, so soft, so tantalizing...

He blushed then looked away quickly.

"Malfoy?" The girl asked in surprise.

* * *

**A/N**: Short chapter! It's my bad! It seemed really long as I was typing it out! But anyway, please read and review! My story thrives on your reviews! Let me know what you guys think, pretty please? (:


	3. Flawed Expectations

**A/N:** Thanks for the many reviews! Boy, it makes me sooo happy! (: This time, special mention goes to... **Gaara's Plaything** for the nice and long review offering me your thoughts! I would also like to give special thanks to **Vesper** for the very lovely and reassuring review. And finally, to **manitou2422**, I hope this chapter answers any queries you have about the setting of the story (:

**Flawed Expectations**

This is so weird. Hermoine thought. Malfoy was smiling at her. And she was positive he blushed. She never knew he was capable of doing something so... _humane_. He must be up to something. She thought.

"Do I know you?" He smiled, pleasure evident on his face. Wow, this girl actually knew who he was! Life sure is good. She was so beautiful. He hoped they were friends in the past._ Or perhaps even something more.._ His face turning a darker shade of red.

His simple question seemed to stir up immense fury in the girl before him. She looked at him in bewilderment and anger. "Stinking mudblood! You filthy mudblood! You taint the world I live in." She mimicked him. "What're you playing at this time, Malfoy?" Suspicion splayed across her face.

Confusion passed across Draco's handsome face. "W..what do you mean?"

"I don't know what happened to you over the summer. But god, Malfoy! Don't you remember? You hate me! I don't know what new tricks you have up your sleeves this time and if I ever find out, I'd hex you till you wished you never spoke to me! We. Were. Never. Friends. And never will we be." She spelt it out clearly for him. She gathered the remaining of the books still on the floor and stomped past him.

_Ouch_. He winced. He must have been a jerk to get her so mad at him in the past. He could not shake her beautiful face out of his mind. Those doleful eyes... He looked behind him, scanning the crowd for her but she had already been swallowed up by the mass of people. He sighed. He was about to look for his mother but he noticed a scrap of parchment on the floor.

He bent down to pick it up and his eyes scanned the words in bold. "**TIMETABLE FOR HERMIONE GRANGER**"

"Hermione Granger," he read the name out loud, a goofy grin spreading over his face. At least he had a name to the face. He thought with glee. He was besotted.

"Draco!" His mother's voice broke him out of his little bubble of joy. "I think I've got it all."

Draco snapped his attention to his mother. A basket full of books was floating in mid air beside her. "What's that?" She asked, gesturing at the piece of parchment in his hand.

"Oh, it... it's nothing. Just a piece of paper I found on the floor." He shrugged.

Narcissa smiled and said "Alright, let's go get you some robes."

Once he was sure she was not looking, he folded the timetable and tucked it into his pocket.

* * *

Summer break was coming to an end. Draco had spent the remaining of his holiday with the home tutor, so as to catch up with his school work.

He really enjoyed learning all about this world he found himself in and school work was a breeze.

Every night, he found himself laying in bed dreaming of the beautiful girl. He could not help it, it was like a bad habit, constantly gnawing at his mind, never leaving the boundary of his thoughts. Each time he closed his eyes, he pictured her face in his mind. It was as if she had imprinted it there. Some nights he even found himself cradling her in his arms, but he would wake up in disappointment upon realising that it had merely been a dream.

With one week left to the beginning of the new school term, his home tutor delivered good news to him. He had sat through a series of tests earlier, which would determine if he was academically able to rejoin his school mates, and he had passed them all with exceptionally excellent results! For someone who had lost his memory, it was indeed a miracle. Draco was filled with pride. He had put in a great deal of effort studying for them, some nights sleeping less than three hours, and his efforts had eventually paid off. He was ready for his final year at Hogwarts!

That night, they had a celebratory dinner to rejoice over his great results. Both mother and son had a great time talking and laughing. The dinner table had never witnessed such joy in a very, very long time. In fact, conversation at the dinner table had been scarce and kept to the minimum. But those were of the past. Now, their laughter filled the room and for the first time in a very long time, the house elves serving them broke into wide smiles. Draco had never felt happier, not that he could make a fair comparison with the past anyway.

_Draco must have been a most fortunate boy._ He thought to himself.

_Little did he realise how wrong he was._

In fact, Draco had always been a lonely boy. He had parents who loved him but never doted on him. They were rich and showered him with all the luxury a teenage boy could ever dream of. Yet, he was lonely. His father never talked to him, but commanded. His mother rarely spoke to him and never listened. They were busy and important people, no time for love. He was brought up to be the perfect son.

He was brought up to follow in his father's footsteps.

In school, he had a wide circle of acquaintances, but no friends. People stuck by him more for the fear his last name generated. No one wanted to bear the consequences of offending a Malfoy.

Through his seventeen years, he had built up a strong wall to protect his vulnerability within. No one would have guessed that behind that signature smirk, there lay a boy who just wanted a friend.

And now he knew what love is; he had a mother who cared. Of course he wouldn't know how fortunate he really is now. He simply believed that things had always been this way.

As he laid in bed that night, he could not help but to smile, thoughts of those rich brown eyes and soft pale lips conquered his mind like a deadly routine. _Life's good._ He thought, before falling asleep.

* * *

"One more time," his mother pleaded as she drew Draco into her warm embrace for the 57th time. He smiled into her shoulder. It had been three months and he certainly had no qualms about calling her "mom" by now. She had showed nothing but care and concern since he woke up and as far as his definition of "Mother" went, she had fulfilled her duties as one perfectly.

It was then that he saw her. Those chocolate brown hair, warm eyes, soft lips… And she was looking at him. An incredulous look played across her features as she raised her brows at him. Her lips twitched in amusement as she walked pass him.

He realized he was still snugly burrowed in his mother's arms and broke away quickly. His face turned a dark shade of red. He scanned the crowd. A feeling of _déjà vu_ embracing him as once again, she was gone.

He ran his fingers through his blonde locks, slightly flustered. His mother looked at him, concerned. "Is anything the matter, my dear?"

"No no, I'm just… excited for school." He lied. He did not feel right telling his mother all about the mystery girl. It was his secret and he was possessive over it.

Narcissa looked at him and smiled. He had regained his weight and his platinum blonde hair had grown past his nape, slightly tousled and framing his handsome face. She wondered if it was the result of her past negligence that led her to never notice how stunning he was. His signature smirk from the past had been replaced by a lopsided smile. It made him all the more charming. She beamed at him. He was easily the best looking boy in Hogwarts. She thought proudly.

The final whistle blew. Draco gave his mom a final hug and pushed his trolley towards the Hogwarts Express. As he boarded the train, he saw her wiping at her eyes. He rolled his eyes in a good natured way. It was so like her to cry over something like that. He gave her a parting smile and a huge wave before disappearing into the train.

"Geez, what was that?" Draco turned towards the source of the voice and found himself looking into the face of a handsome boy. "That exchange with your mother at the platform was sooo touching!" He mocked cry. He studied the dark skinned boy before him. He looked expensive, and Draco wondered if he could actually be richer than himself. He would be stunning, if not for the permanent sneer pasted on his face. He looked like a fox; cunning.

Before he could say another word, two burly boys joined them. "Hey Blaise, what's so funny?" One of them asked.

_Blaise_. Draco frowned. He did not really like them but did not let on. His mother had told him to try his best to fit back in with his circle of friends and it would be best if he avoid revealing his memory loss to anyone. They may judge him and treat him differently.

In actual fact, Narcissa Black was a proud woman. She might be much more caring towards Draco but she was still haughty. The Malfoys are a highly elusive and private family and she did not want anyone to meddle in her domestic affairs. She had paid huge sums of money to the publishers of the Daily Prophet to keep news of Lucius Malfoy from being published. She could not bear the thought of anyone looking down on or sympathizing with her or her family. And so, she had selfishly requested for Draco to act as if nothing had happened and to keep the secret of the past to himself.

Draco saw no reason to disobey his mother. His life was complicated as it is and he could do without more questions from his peers, questions that he had no answers to anyway. Each time he had broached the subject of his past, his mother had swiftly changed the subject and he would drop it. He did not want to do anything to hurt her feelings.

So he plastered on a fake smile and said, "You know… mothers,".

Blaise sneered, thumped him on the back and said "Let's go, mate! You can tell us all about your holiday."

The two burly boys grunted and followed behind like bodyguards. A queasy feeling settled in the pits of Draco's stomach. _These were his friends?_ He let out a sigh inwardly and entered an empty compartment after Blaise.

"… She found her latest source of interest! If all goes well, he would be my eighth stepfather…" Blaise had been talking non-stop for the past hour.

Draco tried to listen but the more Blaise spoke, the more he disliked him. He was the most conceited person ever!

The compartment door opened and Draco thanked Lord for the interruption. He looked up.

A girl their age slid in. She smirked. "I saw your display of affection earlier," she moved over to him and settled herself on his lap. "How about giving me some of it?" She whispered into his ear seductively.

Draco tried his hardest not to show his disgust. _He had a girlfriend? And one that looks like a pig?_

"Get a room, Pansy!" Blaise rolled his eyes and the two airheads, as Draco had secretly nicknamed them, hooted in laughter.

Pansy pouted and turned her attention back to Draco, trying to get him to reciprocate. Draco squirmed in his seat uncomfortably.

Just then, the compartment door slid open. And once again, Draco thanked Lord for the disruption. He peered over from behind Pansy. _No more surprises!_ He prayed.

To his utmost surprise and much pleasure, it was the girl! His girl, Hermione Granger. He smiled at her. She did not return the smile.

Instead, her eyes narrowed. "Zabini, Professor McGonagall wants a word with us now." She said coolly.

She turned over to him and eyed Pansy, not bothering to hide her distaste, "All prefects too, Parkinson."

"God Granger, you couldn't have chosen a better time." Pansy spat out sarcastically.

_Why not him?_ Draco looked enviously over at Blaise.

Blaise's face, however, did not reflect any sign of joy. Instead, he looked disgusted and said sourly. "I'll come in a bit, _Mudblood_."

Draco had learnt that "Mudblood" was a very nasty word for "Muggle-borns", he cringed. Hermione glared at Blaise, then flicked her gaze back to Draco briefly, expecting his usual snide remark. But none came. She rolled her eyes at the public display of affection before her and retreated.

As she closed the door, she overheard Blaise saying "Wow, that filthy mudblood sure has gotten hotter over the summer," Hermione smiled and walked over to look for the professor. Despite her modest nature, she agreed with Blaise. The month spent with Ginny and her horrible make up tutorials had paid off.

"…though I still wouldn't dirty my hands by touching her. But wow, she's tempting!" He let out a low whistle. Crabbe and Goyle laughed.

Draco wanted to hex him. How dare he speak so lowly of someone like that? But instead he held his anger and glared at the other two boys.

"What's with you, Malfoy?" Blaise frowned. Draco had not said a word the whole time and he felt it odd that he did not taunt Hermione.

"Nothing. I'm just tired," He stretched his feet out casually, conveniently pushing Pansy off, to prove his point.

Blaise frowned but let it go. "Let's go Pansy."

Pansy turned to deliver a departing kiss on Draco's lips but he promptly turned his head at the last instant so that she pecked him on his cheek instead. She pouted and he forced out the word "Later," to appease her. Satisfied, she stalked out after Blaise.

The two goons followed behind, muttering something about buying frogs.

Finally alone in the room, Draco looked out the window and took in the blur of scenery. He let out an exhausted sigh. This was so not as he expected.

**A/N:** Did my best in making this chapter longer! And so please reward me with reviews! And, for clarification purposes. This story will be based on their 7th year in Hogwarts, but it'll be without Dumbledore's death, Draco's leaving Hogwarts, etc. It would be just like their previous years in Hogwarts, under the mild threat of Voldemort's inevitable rise. My intention was to write a story without the post-war blues tainting the characters' innocence. But of course I'll address the Voldemort issue too, so no worries, there won't be a gigantic "What about Voldemort?" loophole (: Alright, I am rambling on and you guys must be thinking "WHAT ON EARTH?" so just read on and you'll catch my drift! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! The purpose of this chapter was more or less to explain the setting as well as stitch up any potential loopholes. New chapter will be up soon! In the meantime, you know what to do (:

And finally, I wish all my lovely readers a Happy New Year in advance! 3


	4. Window to The Past

**Author's Note:** I'm really really apologetic for the long hiatus I've been on and I would understand if my readers have all fled ): See, I started writing this story during my last vacation and then school started again and I was tossed into the crazy world of mugging and hence had no time to continue. Its summer break now and I'm back to attempt to finish up what I've started! I sincerely hope you guys would keep reading on and continue to offer me your feedback! 3

**Window to The Past**

Ron and Hermione were walking back to their compartment after the prefect's meeting.

"I swear he's different. You think he's changed?" Hermione asked. "I mean, he saved Harry's life after all."

"Saved? It was more of the other way! So he chickened out, that's all! He's still the same ball of slime. Once a ferret, always a ferret." Ron retorted huffily.

"You should see him, Ron." Hermione insisted. "He's.. queer."

Harry looked up from a copy of The Daily Prophet, as his two best friends entered, bickering as usual. "No news of Lucius again," he commented.

Hermione frowned. "You know the Prophet is just a useless tabloid. I'm guessing someone paid a fortune to ensure that Lucius's name doesn't taint the headlines."

"Any bit of clue as to Lucius's whereabouts would do the Order a lot of good. Lucius's loyalty to Voldemort is equivalent to all the others' summed up. Allowing him to freely roam about could be deadly," Harry's brows furrowed.

"No point getting all worked up now. I'm sure something will turn up soon," Hermione replied sensibly.

"We're finally reaching!" Ron pointed out, completely oblivious to the seriousness in the compartment, as he stuffed his face with chocolate frogs.

Harry felt a bubble of excitement rise up in his chest. He may be entering an epilogue of his education in Hogwarts but seeing the majestic castle looming up ahead still delivers an indescribable feeling of joy and warmth to his guts. This was home to him. He thought happily, all thoughts of the earlier conversation abandoned.

"Come on, Ron! We're needed! And straighten out your prefect's badge! You look scruffy." Hermione scolded as she smoothed down her own robe and patted down her hair before checking her reflection against the window. She was nervous and excited about being announced as the Head Girl at the Welcoming Feast.

"See you later, Harry! Save us a seat at the table!" She gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek and left the compartment with Ron.

* * *

_"Double, double toil and trouble;_

_Fire burn, and cauldron bubble._

_Double, double toil and trouble_

_Something wicked this way comes  
_

_Eye of newt, and toe of frog,_

_Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,_

_Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,_

_Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing  
_

_Double, double toil and trouble;_

_Fire burn, and cauldron bubble._

_Double, double toil and trouble_

_Something wicked this way comes  
_

_In the cauldron boil and bake;_

_Fillet of a fenny snake,_

_Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;_

_Witches' mummy; maw and gulf  
_

_Double, double toil and trouble;_

_Fire burn, and cauldron bubble._

_Double, double toil and trouble;_

_Fire burn, and cauldron bubble_

_Something wicked this way comes"_

The song ended as the choir retreated to their respective tables.

Draco joined the ranks of the first years as he looked around in bewilderment. He tried his best to quell his excitement but it proved to be an onerous task. This place was exuding magic! If he thought Diagon Alley was fascinating, Hogwarts was the epitome of enchantment. Candles floated in midair, welcome banners donning different house colours draped down from the bewitched ceiling that was now shrouded with menacing dark clouds and a full moon.

"Welcome to all old and new!" The headmaster's deep voice snapped everyone's attention back to the front. "I'm sure most of you have had a pleasant break, and would be refreshed and ready to incur the wrath of your professors," he winked as he said this. The moment has come for us to acknowledge our prefects and our new pair of Heads, Head Boy – Blaise Zabini – "

A wild cacophony of cheers erupted at the Slytherin's table where Draco felt compelled to join his peers by applauding his "friend".

Dumbledore politely waited till the excitement dwindled before continuing, "And our Head Girl, Hermione Granger!"

This time, the entire hall broke out in an ecstatic chorus of cheers and applause. Some Gryffindors even stood on their seats and animatedly chanted "Granger! Granger! Granger!" Draco watched the Head Girl smile bashfully as she took in the crowd's reaction with pleasure. He swore his heart melted a little, before realizing that he was the only one standing at his table. He noticed the amused and surprised looks his housemates casted him and hurriedly sat back down sheepishly, completely oblivious to the whispers and stares his action had generated.

"Let me not torment your hungry stomachs any further! Everyone," the headmaster raised his arms in a wide gesture and a wide array of exotic dishes materialized, "tuck in!". As plates and plates of food appear before him, Draco realized he was starving, and joined in the great feast hungrily.

It had been a long day and Draco was glad to finally be retreating to the comfort of his four-poster bed. He followed the crowd as they snaked their way towards the revolving staircases. His mind was still subconsciously replaying the Hogwarts School Song that was being sung at the end of the feast.

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
__teach us something please.  
__Whether we be old and bald,  
__or young with scabby knees…"_

That was when he noticed the raven-haired boy walking by him. He had a serious demeanor and was rather stocky in build, likely attributed to the fact that he played some sort of sports frequently. Even though he may seem unaware of it, he exuded an air of authority and the other students seemed to hold him in high regard. It was evident in the way they paved the way for him and greeted him with pride. Based on this mere assessment, Draco could tell that this boy before him was definitely someone important in Hogwarts. He could not help but to stare at as he tried to delve deeper into this mysterious character. The boy returned his stare and they both locked gazes. He was not surprised when the boy acknowledged him with a crisp nod, somehow he felt like he had met him before. For a brief moment, his fringe parted to reveal a lightning-shaped scar etched on his forehead. And then, all of a sudden –

_The air turned still._

_A bright flash and he saw –_

_The boy on the ground._

_Another flash as another image conjured up in his mind –_

_The boy writhing in pain._

_Another flash –_

_Flashes of green and red lights._

_Flash –_

_Hooded figures._

_Flash –_

_"Kill him!"_

Draco stumbled backwards as if repelled by some unknown force. He clutched his head as he whirled around to catch the retreating back of the boy as he was slowing being engulfed by the crowd of students. Where had all those images come from? He thought wearily, momentarily paralysed by the shock of receiving the influx of flashbacks. He did not have time to ponder for much longer as Pansy came up to him with a look of concern on her face. "What's wrong, Draco?"

"N…nothing. Headache." He mumbled, more to himself than to the girl. "Let's head back." He extended his arm for Pansy to latch on just so she would question no further. He had many questions, but was not in the mood to be the one offering answers. Pansy's eyes widened with surprise but she grabbed his outstretched hand eagerly. She would be a fool not to appreciate one of Draco's rare gestures of affection.

They walked on among the throngs of students with Pansy jabbering on enthusiastically about her holidays. Draco barely listened, his mind was playing back the puzzling images that that boy had induced. The crowd slowly thinned out as they reached a dead end. "_Sanguinis puri_" Pansy said to the wall. It disintegrated to reveal a dimly lit common room with low-backed leather sofas and fireplaces that seem to offer no warmth. The lake right outside the window added an eerie green glow to the room. Fellow Slytherins were sprawled on the leather couches like cougars waiting to pounce.

Draco suppressed a shiver and turned to Pansy. He gave her a brusque nod, "Goodnight".

She started to make a move towards him but thought better of it and replied "Night, Draco." She eyed Draco with concern as he made his way up to the boys' bedroom before retreating to her own.

That night, Draco laid in bed staring up at the ceiling. And for the first time in the past three months, he found himself seriously pondering the question buried deep within his mind – "Who am I?"

**A/N:** Reviews, constructive criticism, opinions, questions? Bring it on please! I'll update soon! And I promise to try to make the chapters longer!


	5. Specialis ut Condita a Domus Pro Animus

**A/N**: Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews and story alert subscriptions! They certainly keep me going (: I hope you guys will enjoy this next chapter as well.

**Specialis ut Condita a Domus Pro Animus**

A hundred and ten miles away, there exists a ghost town nestled snugly in a valley. Tyneham _was_ a beautiful little village deep down in the hills, dotted with a few cottages, a school, a church, and a farm. It _was_ home to some two hundred and fifty two civilians who were forced to evacuate their homes by the Ministry of Defense for the sole purpose of transforming it into a military base during the Muggle's second world war. Their homes were never returned to them after the war.

Coat pegs with names of the children, so long gone, still hung in the classrooms, and pieces of paper, stained yellow with age still occupied the desks. The farm, once lively and inhabited by cattle, now lay bare and populated by the unsightly weeds that had sought refuge in this forgotten town. The village was preserved in a state that was hauntingly beautiful.

It _is_ a village frozen in time.

Three audacious youths were now traversing the barren land, each armed with a camera, occasionally pausing to snap pictures. They were backpackers with a keen interest in exploring such lost islands.

"Hey guys, check this out!" One of them called out to his friends.

"Give me a sec, Pete," Another replied, his eyes, one shut, the other trained behind the viewfinder of his camera. He was poised in a photographer's stance, ready to snap a picture of the ruins of a cottage before him. Overhead, a lone crow cawed, as if in warning. _An omen_. An omen of death.

He thought he heard a twig snap and squinted his eyes to look out for the cause of the sound. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he replaced the viewfinder to his eye and resume his stance. Just as he was about to snap, he caught a flash of green through his viewfinder. His mouth opened in a half scream that could not be completed as he fell the ground, dead. His camera tumbled out of his hands, smashing the lenses, as it made contact with the ground.

"Mike!" The remaining two friends rushed up towards the crumpled body; a very foolish move. Suddenly they felt the air turned cold and the two boys suppressed a shiver down their spine. Something was not right.

"W... what hap - " Pete stopped mid-speech as the same flash of green light hit him squarely in his chest.

Before the last boy could react, a cold, slippery voice came from the cottage "Avada Kedavra!", and the boy met an equal fate as his buddies.

"Nagini, lunchtime." A second voice, far colder than the first, hissed.

Lucius tried not to watch as the large snake slithered out of the cottage, over to the pile of dead bodies. It had been feeding on the carcasses of animals that were dead for a very long time for the past few days and the sight of fresh human bodies must have been heaven to him.

Lucius kneeled before his master as he addressed him. "You have what I want," not a question, but a command.

"Yes, Master." Lucius replied humbly. He reached into his worn out robe and extracted a minuscule vial, no bigger than his thumb.

"Open it" Voldemort commanded.

"Yes, My Lord." Lucius pointed his wand to bottle and murmured a string of incantations. The bottle shook violently under the spell and eventually cracked open on his palm. A piece of parchment fell out. He looked up to his master, awaiting further instructions.

For the past three months, Lucius had been stealthily evading capture, while searching for this. He had skipped from town to town, spent days and days at dingy bars after bars trying to eavesdrop on conversations, all for this. After two and a half months of futile pursuits, he had finally located the legendary _Specialis ut Condita a Domus Pro Animus. _

It contained the instructions for creating an elixir that could make his master whole again. The scrap of parchment was thought to have been destroyed along with the many witches who perished during the infamous Salem Witch Trials in the 1692, where anyone accused of practising witchcraft was sent to the gallows. However, news of a miraculous revival of a young boy in a small town had led both master and servant to believe that the instructions had not met the same fate as its creators. And they were right.

"Read it!" Voldemort commanded again. Although his voice was barely a whisper, the excitement in it was audible.

Voldemort is now nothing more than a soul without a body. He is nothing but a mere presence, devoid of power without a wand hand. But Lucius could change that. He was the most loyal servant and if anyone could make the Lord rise again, it was him.

With shaking hands, he unfolded the crisp parchment, slowly and painfully, for it was folded into many halves and he had to be careful not to tear it. A symbol of a star in a circle was emblazoned at the top of the parchment with the words "_Specialis ut Condita a Domus Pro Animus_" beneath it. A string of ingredients and instructions followed, in Latin.

Lucius, being fluent in Latin, translated the instructions. His hands, holding such dark magic, trembled with fear mixed with eagerness.

"11 bezoar pulverised to powder,  
1 ounce of crude Antimony,  
a fifth gallon of unicorn's blood,  
13 brussels of silverweed dissolved in water till colour changes from yellow to green,  
5 blades of knotweed of equal length extracted precisely at full moon.

Mix the ingredients in a cauldron,  
stirring counter clockwise 97 times with every 7th stirring done clockwise.  
On the 97th stirring, the colour midnight blue would be an indication that the potion has matured and is ready for the final step.  
Soak one bare hand into the potion and drip extraction onto a surface.  
The liquid will solidify instantaneously into a hardened pale blue orb,  
ready for consumption."

He paused as his eyes scanned the last line. Mentally, he attempted to translate it over and over, hoping that it could be translated differently. Resigned, Lucius finally finished with a shaky breath. "This final step must be done by a foe."

Voldemort cried out with frustration! Liberation was so close yet he was shackled by the very last condition. "The Boy!" Time after time, his actions had been hindered by the very Boy who was the reason behind his sorry state. He hissed with rage and took his anger out on Lucius. "Lucius, you fool! Never doing anything right! You failed with your heir and now you have failed me once again!"

"Anything, my Lord! Anything! I will do anything to redeem myself in my Lord's eyes!" Lucius replied, scrambling down to his knees hastily.

"That blood traitor! He's still alive! You failed with him!" Voldemort continued taunting his servant.

Lucius looked at his Lord in shock. He was sure that he had finished off the Malfoy traitor once and for all. But how wrong he was. In his relentless pursuit of the sacred instructions, he had not the time to check on his family, and unbeknown to him, his son had actually survived.

"But.. I.. I killed him, Master!" He offered meekly.

"You fool! You have failed with him and he is now safely back in Hogwarts. I have been merciful, _very_ merciful Lucius. And you have failed me yet again!"

A small part of Lucius was relieved that the Lord did not have a body for He was sure to use one of The Unforgivables on him if He did. This was huge news to Lucius and he did not know what to make of it. _How could his son still be alive? He had given specific instructions to the house elves to not attempt to save the boy. Unless... Narcissa. _He thought, a little guiltily. He was a busy man and it was not the first time that she had been forgotten. They appeared to be a very loving couple in the media, attending charity balls and gracing important events together. It was his job, a man with such high status in his society, to be perceived as a perfectionist, the envy of the public. However, the truth was far from this facade.

"But you're very fortunate, Lucius, for I will be merciful once again. We will play this to our favour." Voldemort shook him out of his thoughts. His sly mind was already plotting the next move.

"W... what do you have in mind, my Lord?" Lucius asked, the fear that his guilt momentarily replaced, returning.

"Patience, Lucius, patience. We will await an opportunity to exploit that filthy scum." Voldemort emitted a shrill laughter that rang on in Lucius's ears even after the laughter ceased.

* * *

_It took him half a day._

The final whistle blew. "Great job, everyone!" Madam Hooch called out as she concluded her lesson. "A little rusty there, Malfoy! Haven't been practising have you? But nice catch at the end!" She winked at him as he walked by her.

"Alright, Potter and Urquhart! I need to see the both of you!" She called out to the two Quidditch captains.

Draco settled himself down at the bleachers. "Aguamenti," he pointed his wand to his water bottle and took a long swig from it. He really enjoyed flying and he must admit that he was a rather decent seeker. He was definitely no Harry Potter in the flying department, but he was certainly no Neville Longbottom! That boy could not even stay on his broom for a minute, Draco chuckled to himself.

"Lost a screw up there, Malfoy?" He nearly choked on his water. He could recognise that voice anywhere._ Hermione Granger_. And why does he always let her catch him at the most embarrassing moments? He chided himself.

Before he could find his voice. She continued incredulously, "The Twigger 90?"

Draco looked over at the broomstick beside him. "Y... yeah, mom got it for me." He shrugged, in an attempt to appear nonchalant. _She was talking to him! Him of all people! He would gladly do the rain dance naked on the Quidditch pitch in front of the entire school to express his immense joy. Merlin's beard, he was pathetic!_

"Flown by those with more money than sense. Very expected of you, Mommy's boy." She replied, jeering at him.

Draco's eyes widened in shock and his attempt to think up of a witty comeback was cut off as a red-headed boy came bounding over.

"Blimey, Hermione! What're you doing wasting your breath on him?" Ron asked, placing his hand on her arm and steering her away from Draco. When his eyes caught sight of the other boy's broom, it sparkled and lingered jealously.

Draco's eyes flicked over to where the boy's hand was and frowned in displeasure. _She had a boyfriend?_ Angry thoughts filled his mind and clouded his senses. He clenched his fists reflexively and try as he might, could not stop his next words from tumbling out. "Well, at least I don't have to resort to using one of the school's ratty hand-me-downs!" Draco spat out, his voice malicious, as he eyed the broomstick in the other boy's hand.

Hermione gasped as Ron's grip tightened on the broomstick he was holding. With his other hand, he whipped out his wand. "Affl - "

"Stop it Ron!" Hermione grasped both of Ron's arm and with all her strength, shoved him back. "You're right! We don't have to waste our breaths on the likes of him! You're better than that!" She threw Draco a dirty look and added acidly. "My humblest apologies for thinking for a moment that you've changed for the better. Well, as they say, a leopard never changes its spots. Come on, Ron!"

"That slimy git! You should have just let me at him!" Ron rambled on as he was being dragged away by Hermione.

"Come on, Ron! Harry's done and we can wash up and have dinner!" Hermione said through gritted teeth as she pulled a very reluctant Ron away from Draco. "HARRY, HELP!"

Harry rolled his eyes, oblivious to the stares of Draco Malfoy, as he jogged up to his two best friends. Their petty quarrels were a common sight to him.

_Harry Potter._ Draco thought as he looked at the trio sulkily.

As he was thinking earlier, it took him half a day to learn the boy's name. _Harry Potter. _He wondered how much significance he bored to the past Draco.

He sighed and massaged his temple as he replayed the recent events. He had no idea what made him said those spiteful words to a boy he did not even know. But he was guessing Jealousy, with a capital J, had a part to play. He shoved his belongings into his bag and trudged wearily back to the Slytherin's common room.

* * *

"Thmfe libframfary?" Ron asked, spewing out some green bits as he talked.

"Stop talking with your mouth full, Ron! It's disgusting! And I didn't catch a word you said." Hermione scolded.

Ron swallowed and said, "I asked, why are you going to the library? The term has barely begun!"

"Precisely! I've got to get a head start if I want to do well for the N.E.W.T.s! And you boys are more than welcome to join me, you know that?" Hermione tried her luck.

Harry groaned. "You're too kind, Hermione. But no thanks!"

"Fine, suit yourself! But please do not come grovelling to me when you need help for last minute revision." Hermione turned in a huff and left the great hall.

"She's hormonal, I swear!" Ron said to Harry when he was sure Hermione was out of earshot.

"Amen," Harry replied as he wolfed down a piece of steak.

* * *

Hermione weaved her way through the bookshelves and settled herself at her usual spot in the library. She sighed contentedly, this was her haven. The library was unusually empty today, which was no surprise since they were barely a week into the term and even the professors seem to still be in the festive moods.

She laid out her quills and parchment and set out to complete her Potions essay that was to be due in two weeks. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she immersed herself in her assignment, completely oblivious to Madam Pince dusting the books on the shelves around her.

So lost in her thoughts, she did not register it when someone else joined her. She jumped up when someone scrapped the chair and sat down across her.

"Merlin, Malfoy! What are you doing here scaring the life out of me like that!" She whispered furiously.

"I could ask the same of you," Draco looked up into her eyes. "Granger." He added, taunting her. _Two can play the same name game._ He thought.

With a small "hmph!" Hermione ignored the intruder and buried her nose in her Potions textbook. She did not like to be interrupted, much less from the boy she detested.

Draco had skipped dinner and instead, spent the time sitting alone in the common room, questioning his identity. Well, he certainly could live with not knowing but the sinister scenes that constantly invaded his mind ever since his first encounter with Harry Potter intrigued him. _Now, who is this Harry Potter and why does his name seem to ring a bell?_ Try as he might, his brain simply refused to make sense of those images. After half an hour of fruitless attempts at recalling his past, he decided to head over to the library instead. At least he would be able to get some work done that way. He grabbed his book bag and a green apple and left the common room.

Madam Pince, the librarian glared at him as he entered, and he offered her a weak smile in return. He had heard her being described as a "thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture". _Such a fitting description_. He thought.

He stopped, mid-stride, as he caught sight of those brown locks, threatening to spill out from a hastily tied bun. He contemplated running away. _Play it cool, Malfoy. Do not blow it this time._ He gave himself a pep talk mentally as he walked over.

Now as he sat across from her, he comforted himself. _Well, it could have gone much worse._

He removed his quills and parchment and placed them on the table. This action seemed to incur the wrath of the girl sitting opposite him. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" She questioned, eyes narrowing at his stationery laid out in front of her.

_Such audacity!_ Hermione thought. _How dare he sit at HER table so casually as if they were best friends! She would be willing to bet that he had never stepped into the library for more than five times in the last six years!_

He raised a brow at her. "I believe that I am entitled to use the facilities in the library as much as you are."

"Pardon me for doubting your eyesight. But have you not seen the empty tables around us?" She bantered.

"Well, I happened to like this one." He challenged, leaning across the table so that his face was only mere inches away from hers.

Hermione could count the freckles dotting his pale cheeks. One, two... _He was so close, too close for comfort._ She snapped herself out of it. "What have you got up your sleeves this time, you slimy ferret?"

Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. "Not that line again! Don't you have something more creative, Granger?"

She lost her cool. "Why aren't you calling me Mudblood? Or saying nasty things to me! Or badmouthing my parents? Or - " She was ranting non-stop now and she knew that this could get her kicked out of the library if Madam Pince were in the vicinity. But she had to know! This side of Malfoy baffled her and she detested not being in control, not understanding, not being prepared for what happened next...

"Hermione..." So lost in her flurry of questions, she had not even noticed him shifting over to sit beside her. "Stop it, Hermione." He hated hearing how he had been so nasty to her in the past. _Was he really that bad?_

_There he goes again, calling her by her name, being so nice it was disconcerting, talking to her, as if they had been friends forever._ Oh, and he was holding her wrists in his hands too. _Good heavens!_

She looked up at him, ready to fire him off with more retorts. But he was looking at her differently. Almost as if, as if he was not Draco Malfoy. That was the only way to describe the look in his eyes; very very un-Malfoy. Merlin, his closeness was making her dizzy.

_She was so close, too close for comfort. _He thought. He could count her lush lashes. But damn, there were just too many. The closure was driving him insane. _Who on earth counts lashes?_ His eyes travelled down the contours of her face, to her lips._ So soft and inviting_. He swallowed nervously.

_Oh Merlin, save me._ _This is Draco "anti-mudbloods" Malfoy coming closer and closer.._. But Hermione could not move. She was frozen, as if waiting eagerly. She must be mentally deranged.

He was so close now, almost there, but barely touching. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut involuntarily.

_Any second now..._

"Come on Hermione! We brought you some of your favourite peaches as peace offerings. Pardon our impudence and let's hurry before Pince cat - " Ron's voice trailed off at the sight before him.

The couple before him sprang apart in an instant. Hermione's eyes glowered furiously while her cheeks burned from the embarrassment of getting caught in such a suggestive position with the enemy. Draco simply looked like he wanted to hex the life out of Ron. NOT HIM AGAIN? He groaned.

"I'm going to balk, Harry. Tell me this isn't real." Ron continued in a strangely calm voice walking over to Draco. Harry stood rooted to the ground, unsure if he should feel amused or betrayed. While he never liked Draco, detested him to the core even, he remembered the events of the summer and felt differently towards the boy.

Ron stopped right in front of Draco and deftly punched him in the face.

All hell broke loose. Harry rushed forward to restrain his red-headed friend while Ron thrashed about wildly in his arms yelling, "Let me at him! Let me at him! He cast a spell on her! He did something to Hermione! He stunned her and he was going to kiss her! I should have hexed him just now at the pitch! Bloody hell, Harry! Let me go!"

Draco clutched his nose and winced in pain as the impact sent him crashing into the bookshelves behind him, sending books to come showering down around him. Had he not been suffering from such immense pain, he would have given Ron a good dose of his own medicine. But damn, that boy sure could throw a punch!

Hermione's face was masked by horror as she was torn between giving Harry a hand and tending to Malfoy's bleeding nose. Her pleas of "Stop! Please stop!" were ignored by Ron who furiously tried to escape Harry's grip.

Madam Pince saved her from making the decision when she stormed over, boiling with rage.

"The books! The books! All of you! Out, out OUT NOW! I will inform McGonagall and Snape! You will be sorry! Should my books come to any harm, you will pay dearly! Oh dear Lord, my books!"

The four students found themselves being levitated in the air as they were being thrown out of the library, very literally.

Pansy gasped in shock at the heap of tangled bodies that landed before her.

"Draco! I was looking all over for you! This was the last place in my mind!" She noticed his bleeding nose and knelt down before him immediately. "Goodness! W... what happened? Let me take you to Madam Pomfrey!"

She tried to lift him by his arms but he snatched them away from her weak grasp. "I can manage on my own." He said drily as he stood up and stormed away from the trio, leaving Hermione to deal with the mess he created.

* * *

**A/N: **Firstly, credit must be given to some of the websites that I made references to. Tyneham really does exist, so while some points may be fact, others are fiction, which I churned out.

And secondly, to be honest, I was rather apprehensive about submitting this chapter as I felt that it would be a crucial point in determining how the story carried on from here. The previous few chapters were more of an introduction that would not have as much significance on the later chapters and hence gave me more liberty to change the plot as I write on. But with this chapter, I have to be committed to this plot! And if I get stuck somewhere, I would just have to work it out. Thus my apprehension. So please be generous with sharing your thoughts, ideas, criticism, questions or encouragement! They would be a great inspiration to me and I would greatly appreciate them (:


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